


Never Turn Away from Love

by Olsies



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hiking, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Shower Sex, imposter syndrome, richie tozier is a crier, stanley uris is a steady rock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olsies/pseuds/Olsies
Summary: Stan closed his eyes and wished there was something he could do to make this better. Ever since they were kids, Richie had never felt like he was enough, and lately things had been really hard because his career had really skyrocketed, leaving Richie a little overwhelmed. He’d been touring for several years, but now when he went to different gigs, private cars picked him up and he stayed at really fancy hotels. It was a little hard for Richie to accept that he could go from being the annoying little shit that Henry Bowers liked to kick the shit out of for having a smart mouth, to getting paidreallywell for the same thing.***Or in which, Richie doesn't think he's good enough to marry Stan, and Stan has to convince him otherwise.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	Never Turn Away from Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PencilEater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilEater/gifts).



> this piece was supposed to be pure fluff based off a sweet little prompt for pencileater who was having a terrible day, but of course my brain was like WHAT IF RICHIE JUST CRIES THE WHOLE TIME.
> 
> apparently richie tozier crying is my kink.

Sitting at the coffee table, Stan dumped out a box full of puzzle pieces that Bill had gotten him last month for his birthday. It was a very pretty puzzle of some birds, but this was the first time he’d had a moment to sit down and do it. Richie was in his office working on his next big tour. He was stressing so hard and there was nothing Stan could do except make sure Richie ate, slept, and showered regularly.

As Stan began sorting the pieces by edges and color, Richie turned up the volume on his radio. Stan could easily make out Mika’s _We Are Golden_ and Stan smiled. He knew if he got up and peaked in, Richie would be running around his office in his boxers and dancing like he always did to this song. Stan kept working until he’d gotten all the edge pieces together before he checked the time. It was almost seven. Groaning as he got up, Stan stretched, his back popping a little as he took a couple steps forward. He went to Richie’s office door and knocked gently.

“Come in, Staniel,” Richie called. Stan opened the door and looked down at his beautiful boyfriend who was completely naked.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Stan said. “You about ready for a break? I’m starving.” Richie licked his lips and rubbed his face, his glasses sliding up his face to the top of his forehead.

“What time is it?” Richie asked.

“Almost seven,” Stan said.

“Fuck, really?” Richie asked. He got up and fixed his glasses. “I’ve been in here for almost ten hours.” He searched for his boxers and pulled them on. Scratching his stomach, he walked out of his office and kissed Stan’s cheek on the way. “I have to use the toilet. What did you have in mind?” Stan followed him down the hall and Richie didn’t bother to close the door as he peed.

“Chipotle?” Stan asked. Richie considered this as he flushed.

“Eh,” he said eventually as he washed his hands. He dried them and sighed. “Pizza?”

“We had pizza three times in the last two weeks,” Stan said. He bit his lip. “Miguel’s?”

“I don’t want to put pants on,” Richie said.

“I could go pick it up,” Stan offered. Richie leaned on the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he studied Stan for a moment. “You doing ok?” Richie shook his head.

“Yeah, I’m just tired,” he said. “Miguel’s is fine. Just get my usual.” Stan just watched him for a moment before nodding. He stepped into the bathroom.

“Kiss?” Stan asked. Richie smiled and pulled Stan close, kissing him very gently. He pushed his forehead against Stan’s.

“I love you, Staniel,” Richie said.

“I love you, too,” Stan said. He pulled away and went to get his shoes.

When he got back with the food, Richie was stretched out like a starfish on the couch.

“Food!” Richie yelled and got up. “As soon as you left I realized how hungry I was. You didn’t happen to get extra tacos, did you?” Stan kissed Richie’s cheek as he took the bags.

“Maybe you should check,” Stan said and Richie squeed.

“And you got chips and salsa!” Richie said looking in the bag as he walked to the kitchen table. He sat as Stan went to get plates, silverware, and napkins. They ate quietly, the TV still playing in the background. When they were done, Stan did the dishes while Richie took a shower. When Stan was done, he went to the front room and started working on his puzzle again.

About half an hour later, Richie came out in clean boxers and a loose, thin long sleeved shirt, hair dripping around his shoulders. Stan didn’t look at him until Richie started to try and squirm into his arms.

“Hey, love,” Stan said. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding,” Richie said. Stan thought about this for a moment as Richie curled his arms around Stan’s chest, pulling him close.

“Do you mean hugging?” Stan asked.

“Did I sound like Bill when we were kids?” Richie asked. “This is my safe space. Now, shut up and put your stupid arms around me.” Stan smirked a little, set the pieces in his hand on the table, and leaned back, pulling Richie with him, cuddling him close. Richie squirmed again and pulled himself into a more comfortable position. Stan didn’t say anything for a long time, just listened to Richie breathing and gently stroked the small hairs on the nape of his neck.

“What’s going on, Richie?” Stan asked. finally Richie shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just tired.” Stan kissed his hair.

“You’ve been working really hard lately,” Stan said. Richie nodded. “Has it been… productive?” Richie sighed.

“I guess? It just doesn’t feel right, and I don’t want to fuck this up,” Richie muttered. Stan kissed him again, shifting a little so he could look Richie in the eyes.

“You know you’re doing so good, right?” Stan asked. Richie ducked his head, looking away. Stan caught his chin and pulled his face back. “I’m proud of you.” Tears filled Richie’s eyes and he shoved his face back into Stan’s chest. “I love you, baby,” Stan whispered, rocking the other man a little. “You’re going to be great. You’re always great.” Richie let out a strangled sob, and Stan just pulled him a little tighter. “It’s ok, love, I’m here.”

Stan closed his eyes and wished there was something he could do to make this better. Ever since they were kids, Richie had never felt like he was enough, and lately things had been really hard because his career had really skyrocketed, leaving Richie a little overwhelmed. He’d been touring for several years, but now when he went to different gigs, private cars picked him up and he stayed at really fancy hotels. It was a little hard for Richie to accept that he could go from being the annoying little shit that Henry Bowers liked to kick the shit out of for having a smart mouth, to getting paid _really_ well for the same thing.

Eventually Richie stopped crying, and he lay limply in Stan’s arms. Stan tried to lean over to get the tissues on the end table, but Richie _whimpered_ and clung tighter. Stan froze.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Stan whispered. “I’m just going to get you a tissue.” Richie cleared his throat and slowly loosened his hold around Stan’s chest. Stan leaned over and grabbed the tissue box. He pulled out a couple and twisted, pushing Richie back a little. He took off Richie’s glasses and set them on the back of the couch before wiping some of the tears off of Richies cheeks.

Richie swallowed hard and pulled back enough to help himself to some tissues. He blew his nose wetly.

“I am so sorry,” Richie said. “I don’t know where that came from.” Stan kissed his forehead.

“It’s ok, baby,” Stan whispered. He stroked Richie’s cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“I know it’s going to be fine, it’s just so big, you know?” Richie asked. Stan nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?” Stan asked. Richie shrugged and twisted so he was laying on his back, his head in Stan’s lap. Stan stroked his soft hair. “How about I call out tomorrow and we just spend the day in bed?” Richie sighed.

“I really should just work,” Richie said. “I’ve got a deadline.” Stan leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Maybe it will help,” Stan said. “Sometimes you just need to step back and look at it with fresh eyes to see what’s really going on.” He had no doubt that whatever Richie had been working on was really good. Richie took a deep breath and gently tangled his fingers into Stan’s.

“Maybe,” he said. Stan gently stroked his hair with his free hand. Richie closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep. Stan just watched him for a few minutes. He wished there was some way he could make Richie see how wonderful he was, but he knew there was nothing. At best it would take time, and at worst… Well, Stan didn’t want to think about _at worst_. He knew that Richie would be ok, but he didn’t want him to _just_ be ok. He wanted him to know his worth.

“You know, it’s rude to stare at people,” Richie said without opening his eyes. Stan smirked.

“And how-”

“I can feel you staring, Staniel Uris,” Richie said. He opened his eyes and Stan smiled. There was no need to deny it; Richie knew Stan liked looking at him. He grabbed his glasses that still had tear drops on them and looked up at Stan. “You’re so beautiful.” Richie reached up and cupped Stan’s cheek. Stan leaned into, closing his own eyes for a moment before turning his head and kissing Richie’s palm a few times.

“Are you ready for bed?” Stan asked. Richie took a deep breath.

“I guess,” he said. He sat up stretched, his back popping. They got up and went to the bedroom. Richie flopped into bed right away, but Stan still had to put on his pyjamas. When he was done, he curled up next to Richie, their limbs tangling until it was hard to tell which belonged to who. Stan pushed his forehead into Richie’s and they just lay there like that for a while. Eventually, they stretched out and put something stupid on the TV and watched it until they fell asleep.

The next morning, Stan woke up before Richie, which wasn’t at all surprising. He very gently untangled himself and went to the bathroom. When he was done he snuck down the hall and started making pancakes. As he was cooking, he called work and let them know he was taking a personal day. When the food was ready, he made a quick cup of coffee with their Keurig for Richie’s and poured a glass of grapefruit and orange juice for himself. He put everything on a tray and walked back down the hall.

“Hey, baby,” Stan said from the foot of the bed. Richie groaned. “I’ve got something for you.” Richie rolled onto his back and grunted while he stretched.

“Mmm,” he said. He groped for his glasses and put them on. He blinked a few times and looked up at Stan. They smiled at each other. “Well, aren’t you just a sweet little angel sent down from Jewish heaven.” Stan waited for Richie to sit up. They scooted closer to the middle of the bed but sat opposite of each other.

“You are so sweet,” Richie said as he added syrup to his pancakes. Stan just smiled, looking down at the food.

“Did you sleep ok?” Stan asked after a few minutes.

“I slept like a rock,” Richie said. “I don’t think I moved at all.”

“Feeling better?” Stan asked and took a sip of his juice.

“A little,” Richie said. “I- I don’t know what that was about yesterday, honestly.”

“It’s ok,” Stan said. “Sometimes you just gotta cry.” Richie smiled a little as he took a bite of his pancakes.

“Did you _really_ call out today?” Richie asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

“Yeah,” Stan said. Richie swallowed and bit his lip.

“I know you said we should just lay in bed, but can we actually get out of the house? I think I’m going a little stir crazy,” Richie said.

“Absolutely,” Stan said. “What would you like to do?”

“Wanna go on a hike?” Richie asked. “I feel like we haven’t been on one in ages.”

“Absolutely,” Stan said. “Whatever you want to do.” Richie smiled again.

They finished breakfast quickly and got dressed. They packed a small bag full of trail mix, granola bars, beef jerky, sandwiches, sun screen, bug spray, wet naps, a first aid kit, water, and a large blanket. Stan also shoved in a couple lightweight sweaters, _just in case_. Richie just rolled his eyes as he tied his boots. Before they left, Stan made them put on the sunscreen so it would have it’s full half hour to start working before being out in the sun as directed on the bottle. When they got to the car, Stan hesitated until Richie went around to the passenger side. Stan’s eyebrows furrowed a little but he said nothing. Richie almost always preferred to drive, and the fact that he was letting Stan drive meant he was more stressed than he was letting on.

On the way up to the trail, Richie talked nonstop about absolutely nothing. He commented on other cars, on billboards, and the cloudless sky. He talked about how he and Bev had gone to lunch and Richie described everything they'd eaten and drank. Stan let him talk, nodding, agreeing and disagreeing when it was appropriate.

When they got to the trail, Richie immediately went to the bathroom while Stan went to the sign with the different trails. He was looking for a paper map but saw a new sticker on the sign inviting hikers to look up the maps on their phones to help preserve the beauty of the park. Stan pulled out his phone and downloaded the app. Richie came over to him, bumping into his shoulder.

“Hey, which trail do you think we should take?” Richie asked.

“I don’t know,” Stan said. “What are you up for?” Richie bit his lip as he studied the sign.

“Why don’t we take the green loop?” Richie asked finally. It was their favorite. Stan didn’t really need a map for it, but he just shrugged the thought off. Better to be over prepared than under prepared.

“Sure,” Stan said. He pushed some buttons on his phone and then shoved it in his pocket. “Ready?” He held out his hand, and Richie took it, smiling.

For the next couple of hours, Richie kept up his one sided conversation. He’d been too much in his head lately, been too quiet, too wrapped up in his work, and Stan thought it was kind of nice to hear him again.

When they got to the midway point, they went to a little clearing just off the trail that they, and countless others, had used before. Stan frowned at a couple abandoned water bottles, but Richie just scooped them up and threw them in a nearby trash. Stan handed over some wet naps before they spread out the blanket and sat down. Well, Stan sat and Richie laid down with his head in Stan’s lap. He kept talking for a little while but after a few minutes, he fell silent. They both sat there under the trees just listening to the forest and the wind and the birds, they felt the sun on their skin, and watched as it trickled through the thick foliage.

When they were done eating, Stan laid down opposite of Richie so their heads were close but their feet were stretched out away from each other. Richie flopped his hand between them, and Stan took it, squeezing it. He began naming off the different birds they heard, told Richie about the different trees. Richie had heard it all before, but he just closed his eyes and listened to Stan’s soft voice.

Eventually Stan ran out of words, too, and they just lay there. Richie stroked Stan’s fingers with his thumb, and Stan listened to the sound of Richie breathing.

They didn’t get up until a couple of small kids came crashing through the brush. Both Stan and Richie sat up as the children’s moms came chasing after them.

“We’re sorry, this is just their favorite place,” one of them said, and Richie shook his head, smiling.

“We should be going anyway,” Stan said as Richie began to collect up their things. The kids played on the path nearby, giggling and running up and down the path.

“Have a good day,” Richie said as he tugged the backpack on. Stan waved and took Richie’s hand as they exited the clearing. They walked away in silence.

After a while, Stan licked his lips. “Hey, Richie?”

“Yeah, Stanny?” Richie asked.

“Is there something more than work going on?” He asked, almost afraid of the answer. Richie stopped and Stan tripped a little when he didn’t realize Richie had stopped. Richie clutched tightly at Stan’s hand before Stan could try and pull away. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Uh, kind of?” Richie said. Stan tried to pull away in earnest, but Richie held tighter. “No, it’s not bad,” Richie spat out as he dropped his hand from his face. “I mean, it could be.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Fucking Christ.”

Neither of them said anything.

“Richie, you’re scaring me,” Stan said. Richie looked at him.

“C’mere,” Richie said, pulling Stan to the side of the path as another group of hikers walked past. Richie did the polite wave, but Stan just kept staring at Richie.

“Richie,” Stan pleaded when they were finally gone. His heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he was surprised it hadn’t scared all of the birds away.

“I don’t-” He started and stopped. “Stan.” He looked at Stan, really looked at him in a way that he hadn’t in a while. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Richie,” Stan said. There was a high pitched ringing in his ear that was making it hard to concentrate.

“I’ve talked to the others, and they keep telling me that it will be fine, but- but I just have to know, before I do it, that- that I’m not setting myself up for failure,” Richie said.

“What is it, Richie?” Stan asked. If the others knew and they hadn’t warned him, or at least hinted that something was wrong, it was probably fine.

“I-” He took a deep breath. “Stan, Stanley.” Stan’s heart fluttered so hard in his chest he worried he might pass out. “I love you.” Stan didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. Richie took a deep breath and let it out. “I- m- marry- Marry me?” Richie finally managed. He cleared his throat and Stan swallowed hard. He couldn’t have heard him right. “Will you marry me?” Richie asked again. Stan was silent for a moment too long, and Richie pulled away, a small sob escaping from him as he took off down the path.

The sob broke Stan’s trance. “Richie! Richie, wait!” Stan yelled as Richie fell to his knees in the middle of the path.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I was kidding,” Richie said. “I- I knew it was stupid.” Kneeling next to Richie, ignoring the sharp pain in his knees from the gravel on the path, Stan pushed Richie’s hands away from his face and cupped his cheeks although he wasn’t sure Richie could even see him through his tears.

“Richie Tozier, of course I’ll marry you,” Stan said, wiping away some of Richie’s tears. He kissed Richie’s forehead.

“You- you what?” Richie asked. Some people walked around them but Stan and Richie ignored them.

“I love you, Richie, and I will marry you,” Stan said. “I- I was just so scared you were trying to break up with me that it took me a minute to realize what you were saying.”

Richie wiped away some tears. “Stan, I could never- If anyone was going to leave- I could never,” Richie said. Stan pushed his forehead against Richie’s.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Stan said. Richie looked at him, studying him to see if somehow Stan were lying, but when he found whatever he’d been looking for, he wrapped his arms around Stan’s broad shoulders and pulled him down for a hungry, wet kiss. On the list of ideal kisses, one where Richie’s nose was running was very low, but it was one of the best kisses Stan had _ever_ received because _Richie Tozier had just fucking asked him to marry him._

Richie tried to pull Stan down on top of him, but Stan’s knees ground against the path, and he broke apart, yelping in pain. Richie helped Stan sit down on his butt and looked at Stan’s knees.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Richie said as he tugged off the back pack. He started digging around until he found the first aid kit.

“It’s ok,” Stan said. Another group of people approached so they scooted a few feet to the edge of the path before Richie started cleaning up Stan’s knees.

“I’m sorry, I was just- I was going to ask you during the last show of the tour,” Richie said as he opened a water bottle and poured it over Stan’s knees before wiping gently with a bit of gauze to try and get the gravel loose. “It was going to be part of my act, but I just-”

“You got scared,” Stan said. He watched Richie work for a moment.

“I just couldn’t believe you would say yes,” Richie said. He opened an alcohol swab. He held his free hand out, and Stan took it. He grimaced, clutching hard to Richie’s hand as Richie wiped his knees. “I’m such a hot fucking mess, and you’re like… not a mess.”

“Richie, you are amazing,” Stan said as Richie pulled out a couple large bandaids and put them on Stan’s knees. “You are an amazing comedian. You’ve never been more popular.” Stan watched Richie collect the garbage and put the bag on his back. “You are _so_ successful. You are successful in a way I never will be.” Richie got to his feet and held out his hand and helped Stan up.

“Yeah, and I still forget to eat and shower and- and-” Richie said. “You shouldn’t- you shouldn’t marry me. I’m- I’m just gonna pull you down.” Stan pulled Richie close and cupped his face, lifting it up a little so Richie would look at him.

“Richie, you are my best friend and love of my life. You are an _amazing_ person, so loving, so generous. You are so protective of your family, of anyone that seems to be in need. You don’t put up with anyone’s bullshit, and you just- Richie, there are so many good things about you. I’d be stupid _not_ to marry you.” He leaned down and kissed Richie, sliding his arms down around Richie’s chest so he could wrap him up in all the love Stan felt for him. Richie kissed him back, clinging to his shoulders, crying again.

When they broke apart again, another group was walking past. They unsuccessfully tried to not stare, and one of them definitely recognized Richie, but Stan hoped Richie didn’t realize it just then.

“I love you, Richie,” Stan said. “And _I am_ going to marry you.” Richie snorted with laughter and choked a little.

“Fuck, I’m a mess,” Richie said as he tugged off the bag. He opened it and pulled out a wet nap. “There was absolutely no way I would have been able to do this at the show _without_ knowing your answer. Maybe now I won’t be a disgusting mess when I do it that night.” They both laughed, because they knew there was _no way_ Richie was going to get through even a fake proposal without crying his eyes out.

They waited for a bit for Richie to stop crying, but eventually Richie just gave up.

“It’s not going to stop,” Richie said. “I’m- I’m just so fucking _emotional_. We should head down.” Stan nodded and kissed his forehead. They talked softly through the rest of the hike. When they got back to the start, Richie went to the bathroom again and Stan pulled out his phone to check the time. It was almost four.

When Richie got out of the bathroom, they hugged and kissed once more before getting in the car, Stan behind the driver’s seat. Richie leaned over the cup holders and rested his head against Stan’s shoulder and fell asleep before they were ten miles down the road. When they got back home, Richie was still asleep. Stan sat there wondering if he could carry Richie in the house without hurting him, but decided it was best to not try. He just turned the car off and put his head on Richie’s, breathing in his scent and kissing the top of his head.

About thirty minutes later, Richie woke up slowly. He sighed, stretched, and hummed a little before opening his eyes.

“Are we home?” He asked in a rough voice.

“Yup,” Stan said. “You ready to go in?” Richie blinked at him slowly.

“Did I ask you to marry me?” Richie asked.

Stan smiled and kissed his forehead. “Yes, and I said I am going to marry you,” Stan said, and Richie’s eyes filled with tears. Stan smiled, laughing softly. “Baby, how are we going to do this if _you don’t stop crying_?”

“I’m just so happy,” Richie said, kissing him on the mouth. Stan opened his mouth, and Richie licked his way in, tasting, feeling. Stan closed his eyes and sighed. Richie pulled back after a few minutes. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Stan said and kissed his forehead. “Let’s go take a shower.” Richie nodded and they got out of the car. Normally they put all the stuff in the bag away before they did anything else, but as Richie started to unpack, Stan pulled him away and they went down the hall to their bedroom and into the master bathroom.

Stan turned the water on in the shower, and they got in after undressing and taking off their glasses. Richie normally hated taking showers because of how much he _couldn’t_ see, but he never said no to a shower with Stan. They got in the shower and Stan pushed Richie up against the shower wall, kissing him roughly, needily. When they pulled apart, he was panting. Groaning, Richie let his head fall back against the wall and Stan licked Richie’s neck, sucking a little. Richie moaned.

“What do you want, Richie?” Stan asked, his mouth still on Richie’s neck. Richie _hmmed_.

“How are your knees?” Richie asked. Stan didn’t even hesitate, just pulled away and grabbed a hand towel. He folded it and dropped to the floor before kneeling in front of Richie, as Richie just looked down at him in disbelief. Stan kissed his thigh and wrapped his long fingers around Richie’s hard cock.

“You ok, babe?” Stan asked and Richie ran his fingers through Stan’s wet curls.

“Yeah,” Richie managed. “I’m- I’m good.” Stan rubbed his thumb over the head of Richie’s dick and Richie moaned. Stan took his time getting Richie off, ignoring the pain in his knees, the towel only able to do so much. Richie’s fingers twisted in his curls, and Stan moaned a little. With his mouth and one hand around the base of Richie’s cock, Stan jerked himself off with the other. He came just before Richie, groaning around Richie’s cock, and by that time, Stan wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get up. Richie came with a sharp grunt and Stan just kept sucking and swallowing, Richie’s legs trembling around him. When he was done, Richie slowly slid down next to him. They sat there on the shower floor, just looking at each other for several moments.

“I love you,” Stan finally managed. His voice was rough and Richie just smiled.

“I love you, too, Staniel,” he said eventually. After a few more minutes, they got up and Richie insisted on washing Stan’s hair.

“If we stay in here too much longer, we’re going to turn into prunes, so stop arguing and listen to your fiance,” Richie said. Stan smiled and kissed him as he handed Richie the shampoo bottle. This wasn’t the first time Richie had washed his hair, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but Stan couldn’t remember Richie ever being this gentle, this attentive. It made Stan’s heart feel so full. Richie even put the conditioner in, something he argued was a waste of time. While they were waiting for it to do its job, he picked up Stan’s loofah and poured some soap on it. Stan stood there and let Richie wash him from head to toe, making sure to be gentler around his knees and crotch. Stan sighed as he watched Richie wash himself much quicker and a lot rougher with his own loofah. Stan wanted to help him, but when he tried to move, his knees crunched angrily, so he just leaned against the shower wall. When Richie was clean, he helped Stan rinse the conditioner out of his hair.

They got out of the shower, dried off, and flopped on the bed. It was still early, and Stan knew they should figure something out for dinner, but all he wanted in that moment was to lay in bed next to Richie, just enjoying the feel of Richie’s body pressed against his just because they wanted to be close to each other.

Stan pulled Richie close, breathing in the clean smell of him. He couldn’t believe just how _fucking_ lucky he’d gotten. He and Richie had been friends since they were kids, and Stan would be lying if he said that he hadn’t been absolutely head over heels in love with Richie, but as a kid he’d never thought it would happen.

And nothing did happen until their senior year of college. Stan had been having a hard time of it, and Richie was so nice. He had been absolutely right when he said that he couldn't remember to feed himself, but he remembered to feed Stan. That last semester, Richie worked harder in his classes than he had in the previous three and a half years simply because he spent so much time with Stan while _he_ studied. The night before graduation, Richie had come to their shared dorm room, a little drunk, and absolutely sobbing.

They’d sat down on Stan’s bed and Stan just held him, trying to calm him down, and then Richie just leaned up and kissed him. That time, Stan didn’t even hesitate, just leaned down and kissed him back. They’d sat there kissing so gently for a long time. Eventually Richie pulled back.

“I love you,” Richie had said. Stan smiled and gave him a gentle pack.

“I love you, too,” Stan said. Richie took a deep breath and ducked his head.

“What are we going to do?” Richie asked. They’d had plans to live in different cities post graduation. Stan had just leaned forward and kissed him.

“I have no fucking clue,” Stan said.

That first few months had been rough, there were so many times that Stan had thought they wouldn’t make it. They were living so far apart, Richie in LA, Stan in Georgia. It was almost too much, but then by some miracle, Stan’s company had merged with another, and they offered him a transfer to LA. He hadn’t even thought about it, just accepted and immediately called Richie where he was working as a waiter at a restaurant. Stan lied to the person who answered, said it was an emergency, and the next thing either of them knew, Richie was booking a flight to come help him move. They’d been together ever since.

Stan couldn’t believe that nearly two decades later, he was still as in love with Richie as he had been when they were kids.

And now they were getting married. Stan wished he had a way to tell his younger self that the future was going to be so much better, that everything would be ok. That one day he’d be able to kiss Richie Tozier any time he wanted.

Stan leaned forward and kissed Richie’s cheek. Richie sighed, and nuzzled closer.

“I love you,” Richie murmured, eyes still closed.

“I love you, too,” Stan said and pecked Richie’s cheek again. Stan knew he should get up and get dinner, but all he wanted to do was lay there with his favorite person, so he just sighed and snuggled closer. If worse came to worse, they could just order pizza. He knew Richie would be happy with that.


End file.
